Metta meta Metta

Metta meta Metta.

I stopped at my Muse's tree yesterday,  and spent a considerable amount of time walking in and around the root system.  I'm quite certain it was never intended to be used as a labyrinth, or even labelled Her tree - but the nexus of realities I've been threading myself through have their own set of rules,  and top of list is that they don't give a tinker's damn about how thing's should be.

If they did,  would there be shining galaxies waiting to be plucked as ripe fruit from the branches?  Or light shining from the soil? Or a candied wind that wraps itself around me like a shawl and dances me to new absurdities I missed the first time round?

The last find,  as always,  was the Most interesting:  A living parchment between the second and third branches;  aspen papyrus with three words:  Metta meta Metta.

It was invasive to peel the parchment from the tree, and somehow,  it was redundant to take it anyways.

Sometimes the Muse's embrace is full and sensual; sometimes a  gift basket dropped off in a somnolescent moment during a commute home. And then other times like today,   it's simply a pointer to something that's already been branded in my heart or mind,  needing some attention.

Such was this,  a reminder of my narrative,  for today anyways: Metta meta Metta.

In spite of my brokenness and rusted parts -memory of a goldfish, self confidence up and down like a toilet seat - purpose continually re-imagined, scrubbed,  re-imagined again -  maybe because of them - I am compelled to glory in the grand design, the One-in-All,  the Theory of Everything. And today that is summed up in those three words.

Metta - loving kindness;  compassion,  the sire of grace and intenion:

sandwhiching:

Meta - the story of stories,  the Platonic forms felt if not understood - the arch that connects it all. 
The place where details are abstracted  to a place where memory is not a problem - they *are* the very nature of remembering.

sandwhiched by

Metta - loving kindness; compassion, the sire of grace and intention


When my endless curiosity is lit up by Knowledge then dulled by my limitations, it's important to know what it is to Know:

And for me,  tonite anyways,  it's Metta meta Metta.